


Merry Un-Christmas

by Xaori



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Almost smut, Christmas Fluff, Claire Redfield steals Christmas, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship/Love, The girl who drank too much, christmas confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaori/pseuds/Xaori
Summary: With her brother, Jill and Sherry abroad, there's no one left for Claire Redfield to spend Christmas with that year.Fortunately, someone forgot to check his emails.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Claire Redfield
Comments: 54
Kudos: 151





	1. Chapter 1

**To:** Leon S. Kennedy <lskennedy@dso.gov>

 **From:** Claire Redfield <c.redfield@terrasave.org>

 **Subject:** About this year's Christmas dinner

 **Message:**

Hey Leon,

I know you never really enjoyed it, so I appreciate that you come every year and have dinner with me and Chris. Anyway, you'll be happy to know that there won't be our usual party at my place this Christmas Eve. As you know, Sherry is on an assignment in Edonia, and so are Chris and Jill. I assume that you're gonna be abroad as well, but even if you're not, I don't think you would like to come anyway. So, you're free this year!

Merry Christmas.

Hope to see you soon, though. Maybe next year ;)

Claire

* * *

Another sip of wine would warm her soul, Claire thought as she poured the rest of the fluid into the glass and placed the empty bottle aside. The chicken wings were sizzling happily in the oven, waiting for her to drown them in a bathtub of her special spicy sauce—a secret recipe of her mother. It wasn’t a very christmassy dinner, but it wasn’t meant to be one anyway.

Claire swung the glass around and admired the dark-red of the content as her rough tongue slid disgustedly over her teeth. Swallowing down the taste of sour and bitter in her mouth, she began to wonder when she had become so hard-drinking, and if she could blame it on the company of people like Chris Redfield and Leon Kennedy, who had never learned a better way to cope with their demons. She herself was supposed to be tougher, though; to stand upon every mental crash and breakdown just for the mere fact of being a woman. Sherry had survived years of experiments the government had performed on her; Jill had come back from her captivity in Wesker’s hands and had gotten back to work without even blinking; Moira had spent six months on a creepy island full of infected; and Claire could finish off a bottle of wine on her own and walk out of the kitchen as fresh as a flower afterwards.

And that’s what she did. With slow and clumsy but determined steps, she dragged herself into the living room, where she would decide what movie to watch while she would let the sauce of the chicken wings glue her fingers together before she would doze off in the cushions of her couch. Something full of action, or mystery maybe. It wouldn’t help her keep her thoughts away from Edonia, but at least she wasn’t going to think about Christmas all night long, and whatever made her think less about _anything_ was welcome. Before she could get into the reach of her home movie-collection, though, her doorbell rang. Claire blinked towards the door in bafflement, as she wasn’t expecting any visits that night—not anymore—and she feared it could be one of her nosy neighbors asking for a last-minute supply of salt or sugar. They wouldn’t understand that she would be alone that night. 

Not that it was their fucking business anyway.

At the second ring, Claire rolled her eyes and wabbled towards the entrance, opening it with a swift spin of her hand, and the door nearly crashed into the wall next to her as she saw who was standing outside in the corridor.

“Leon?!”

A handful of snowflakes fell from his blond strands as he shook his head and stepped into her hall. 

“Merry…” he exclaimed cheerfully before something stole his voice and he blinked into her apartment, looking around like something was missing.

Something was missing indeed. Leon turned back to the corridor, where the muffled sound of Christmas carols and the shine of colorful fairy lights had guided him up the stairs to her apartment door—something he had expected to find _behind_ said door, too. However, it was like he had just jumped a couple of months forward in time, when nothing of the shiny joy would be present in the life of the citizens of New York City anymore.

“What happened here?”

Claire leaned against the door to keep herself from falling. With one of her eyebrows jumping so high it nearly touched the line of her hair, she asked, “Didn’t you read my email?”

One headshake later, Claire couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. No, of course, he hadn’t read her email. He hadn’t read a single one of her emails since those she’d sent him from France in 1998. He also never took her phone calls, which was the reason why he always forgot to bring drinks to their Christmas dinner. Her eyes jumped to the bottle in his hands. Apparently, this year he had remembered to bring some wine.

“I told you there was no Christmas party this year,” she said as she walked into the kitchen and let Leon take care of the door. “Sherry, Chris and Jill are all in Edonia. We will celebrate it when they’re all back.”

Leon closed the door behind him, still baffled by the undecorated living room of his redhaired friend. Where was the Christmas tree, the stockings over the false fireplace, and the candles? What had happened to the cookies and milk they usually had themselves because they were all grown-ups and knew there was no such thing as Santa Claus? Why was Frank Sinatra not singing about however many days of Christmas and about little drummer boys? 

What the fuck had Claire done to Christmas?

“I get that you don’t have a party, but you didn’t have to put away the tree and...”

Claire turned back to him and hissed, “Chris doesn’t have a tree right now, either.”

Their bond had always been a very special one. He had sensed it from the very beginning, and it had been the main reason why he hadn't _begged_ her to stay with him and Sherry after escaping Raccoon City.

“Why aren’t you in Edonia?” he followed her into the kitchen and left the bottle of wine on the counter, waiting for the redhead to respond.

Claire shrugged and shook her head before she knelt down in front of the oven, letting out a heavy sigh.

“I was supposed to be sent there a week ago.”

She placed the tray of chicken wings onto the counter and began to pour her special sauce over the food.

“I wanted to be home on Christmas Eve, though, because it’s the only fucking day of the year we _all_ get together. So I pressed my coworkers to change shifts and operations with me, in order to be here with you all,” she said as she violently mixed meat and sauce. “And then Sherry was sent to Edonia to track down some guy and Chris got the call and Jill just fucking went with him because it’s what she _needs_ to do. Naturally, I can’t just change my work schedule again.”

Claire sighed as she poured the food onto a clean tray of fine porcelain with blue ornaments on it.

“So, I’m here alone.”

Leon crossed his arms over his chest, clearing his throat before he said, "I'm here, too," sounding a little offended.

The redhead turned around and gave him an apologetic shrug.

“Sorry, I wasn’t…” She closed her eyes in defeat and smirked. “I’m sorry there’s no party tonight, but I guess that you will stop marking my emails as read without opening them from now on.”

It was kind of embarrassing to admit that he hadn’t paid the needed attention to her written communication, leaving him outed as the worst friend ever, but thanks to that inconvenient of his, he had somehow managed to be with Claire on Christmas Eve. It somehow made him feel better, as his redhead genuinely seemed to be losing it. Also those chicken wings she had prepared smelled and looked delicious, if not very festive. 

“Now that I’m here,” Leon said with a shrug. “Maybe we can have dinner together.”

Claire eyed him curiously as she considered his offer. Wasn’t he a sweetheart? It was obvious that he’d rather be somewhere else, with someone else, having something else for dinner, but he was offering his company for that lonely night, and declining would be more than unkind—in the best of cases. So, Claire shrugged a shy shoulder as her lips drew a smile.

“It will be Un-Christmas dinner, though.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be working on other stuff, but I'm not feeling very creative lately. Also, Christmas is coming and I kinda promised someone to try to write a Cleon-Christmas-Oneshot, so I am writing a one-shot, and splitting it into four LOL
> 
> Merry Un-Christmas everybody!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some mentions of Aeon and the other Nivanfield in this chapter. Sorry. I can't help it. I hope you still enjoy.

“So, why aren’t  _ you  _ in Edonia?” Claire asked as she chewed on the chicken wing. “There’s a lot of stuff going on there and I assumed the D.S.O. would have sent you.”

_ Pulp Fiction _ was on TV while they had dinner, with the volume turned down low because none of Tarantino’s masterworks could actually compare to the adventures they got to live in real life. Devouring the chicken wings and flushing them down with some wine, the two friends had started chatting about what they had been doing in the previous months, and Claire soon felt how much she had missed sitting down with Leon just to talk. She felt comfortably warm there on the couch on that Christmas Eve that wasn’t lonely anymore, and she dared to believe it had something to do with the blond’s surprising visit.

Sure, the wine was doing its part, too.

“They don’t let me play since I came back from ESR,” Leon replied, his lips marred into the loveliest pout she had ever seen. “Something about disobedience and irresponsible and reckless behavior.”

Claire eyed him for the short time she spent chewing before she eventually gulped down the piece of food and let her jaw drop softly.

“What do you mean? Did they…?”

He laughed as if he could read her mind. It was simply impossible not to laugh at the hilarious idea she was pointing at and the way he exhaled and snickered told her that she could calm down—that they wouldn’t just  _ fire  _ him after keeping him on a leash for nearly fifteen years. It wasn’t like he was the black sheep in their organization anyway. It would be a good idea of the government agencies to start scrutinizing their employees more thoroughly, as a good half of their inner organs were rotten and dying either of corruption or indiscipline.

“Suspended until February,” he said and lifted his hands in a theatrically defensive manner. “I’m unarmed and not dangerous.”

Claire sucked in a breath, sending a tiny piece of chicken wing down the wrong pipe and nearly killing herself with it. After coughing for what felt like an hour while Leon gave her soft pats on the back, she eventually found her voice again.

“They took your toy, huh?” she chuckled and added with a wink, “I can lend you one of mine.”

He tossed away the peeled bone of the chicken wing and grabbed his glass instead, giving his friend a rather amused glance

“It’s fine,” he said after flushing his mouth with the cheap-tasting wine. “It’s been a few months already, I’m slowly getting used to it.”

Claire leaned against the backrest and studied Leon’s face, losing herself in the strong features of the blond as he absentmindedly stared into the glass. He was the most beautiful man she had ever known—no shit. The cute boy she’d met in Raccoon City had slowly turned into something so insanely handsome that it was a shame he was wasting his good looks on a job that might destroy him, but the outside wasn’t what made Leon Kennedy so unique. Because the way he moved, talked, smiled—and killed—was the real reason why so many women all over the world would go crazy whenever he so much as walked into the room. Stupid. Pathetic. Lamentable.

She hated to admit that she had been one of them.

Once or twice—maybe five or six times—she had caught herself dreaming of how nicely his arms would feel when they wrapped around her, how softly the loose strands of his hair would brush and tickle the bridge of her nose when they kissed, or how beautiful their kids would look. Those sudden daydreams hadn’t visited her since 2005, though, when their meeting at Harvardville Airport and the subsequent incident at the WilPharma facilities had shown her how cold Leon Kennedy could turn when he went into battle—unless he was somehow going into it next to someone who had more boobs than brain. The way he’d been lurking around Angela Miller all the time had made it evident that her friend knew how to make women feel special, but that for some reason Claire wasn’t a woman to him.

She was damned if she ever hoped to be more than just his friend anyway, as she knew perfectly well that all those other girls would never get to be as important to him as a certain spy he had met in Raccoon City.

“It means you have more time for yourself,” she said, softly nipping on the glass as she reminded herself that this was not the first bottle she was emptying. 

If she wasn’t careful she might eventually say something she’d regret later. Something like, “I assume Ada has taken the chance to pay you a visit these months.”

He was about to have another sip of wine, but stopped his move midway, baffled by her comment. His eyes darted to her and he put the glass back down.

“Actually,” he replied with a soft sigh. “No.”

He shrugged a shoulder and began to stroke the ankle Claire had somehow gotten to place next to his thighs on the couch, twisting her legs like a circus contortionist. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, the pose or the fact that he was about to tell her about Ada, but a soft, electrifying tickle buzzed over her skin where he touched her.

“What happened?” she mouthed and placed her hand onto his. Leon just grinned in reply.

“The last time I saw her was in Eastern Slav Republic,” he said. “She came to my hotel room after the mission. We had sex and then she left.” A shrug ran through his shoulders. “That was all. It’s always like that. Fast and uncomplicated, at least for her.”

Leon grabbed the glass again and emptied it with one large gulp.

“For me it used to be unpredictable and thrilling. Every night with her was like it was the first one; probably because it never happened more than once a year.” His fingers caressed Claire’s ankle as he spoke. Did he even know what he was doing to her, touching her in such an innocent way while he told her how much he had enjoyed fucking another woman?

“I guess it will never be easy for you two,” she replied, hoping her words would somehow put an end to the conversation she herself had started.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I guess I’m too old for this shit. I want other things now.”

Claire eyed him curiously, the question of what other things he wanted burning on the tip of her tongue as bright as the wish that it was  _ her _ he wanted. She took another sip of wine instead to cool the fire down.

“What about you?” Leon said when the silence became too uncomfortable. “I was hoping to meet your boyfriend tonight, but I guess he _ did  _ read your email.”

She blinked twice before she realized whom he was talking about.

“Oh! That!” She shook her head. “No need to. He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

Leon watched her, wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “You okay? What happened?”

Claire sighed sadly and raked her fingers through her hair.

“He wanted more.”

Leon’s hand stopped abruptly and came to rest on her ankle, the warm touch sending shivers through her body.

“More?” he asked amusedly. “Like marriage and children? Wasn’t it a bit too early for that? I mean, how long were you two together?”

Claire responded with laughter as she realized how ridiculous it really sounded.

“Just four months,” she mumbled softly. “But  _ more  _ didn’t refer to marriage, but to  _ telling Chris _ .”

The blond’s eyes widened at her confession.

“You didn’t tell you brother about your boyfriend?” He asked astonishedly. “Why not?”

She snickered and rolled her tongue over her lips.

“Because he was casually working with him,” she whispered shyly, turning her head away in shame. “Like in the same unit.”

Leon jumped at the revelation.

“Sorry, what?” He exclaimed chidingly. “You were having an affair with one of your brother’s men and didn’t tell him about it?”

Claire turned her head back and gave him a pure innocent look over her shrugged shoulder as she said, “His second-in-command! And it was not just an affair. We were in love.”

Leon stopped laughing, only a sly smirk remaining on his lips as he poured himself another glass of wine.

“The kid with the rifle?” There was a jealous undertone in his voice that the redhead found simply amusing. “How old is he? Sixteen?”

“Twenty-five,” she howled.

Leon grunted in response.

“They say he sleeps with the rifle.”

“I can assure you he doesn’t!”

They laughed until they ran out of breath and Claire felt her conscience drain slowly from her body. Maybe she’d had enough wine that night, she thought as her look waved to Leon, who looked like he hadn’t even finished his first glass.

She definitely couldn’t compare to a hardcore drinker like him.

Leon observed her closely, and Claire hoped the tender look on his face stood for something more than just concern. 

“Why didn’t you want to tell Chris?” he insisted. “I’m sure he would have approved… eventually.”

Doubt tugged on the corner of her mouth as she inhaled deeply, searching for the right answer to give. That was, if there was any. She herself had asked the face in the mirror the same question a hundred times, back when it hadn’t been too late yet for Piers and her to fix things.

“I have trust-issues and I always make dumb choices when it comes to feelings,” she said softly. “I was afraid I was rushing things and he took it personally.”

Leon huffed.

“What an ass!” He yelled and Claire grunted.

“Right? Fuck him! I hope he dies in Edonia!”

The words hadn’t really gotten out yet when she pressed her both hands onto her mouth and lowered her head in shame while Leon laughed out loudly.

“Oh my god,” she howled into her palms. “Please tell me I didn’t just say that!”

When she looked back at Leon, the blond was wiping off a tear the laughter had lured out.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It will be our secret.”

Claire shook her head and combed her hair back.

“Piers is… He is a great man, really. But he’s still very young…” she paused to consider her words. “Very mature, too, but maybe he hasn’t seen enough…”

“You mean he’s not fucked up enough?” 

Leon spoke with a smashing truth that hit her where it hurt the most. With a sigh on her shaking lips, Claire grimaced a bit before the laughter burst out again.

“Yeah,” she shouted and tried to regain her composure, a task too hard to achieve when they were both drowning in the hilariousity of the moment. “Oh fuck! I think I’ve drunk too much! I’m making a fool out of myself.”

“Oh, please,” Leon took up the bottle and swung it around. “There’s still a tiny bit for each of us. You won’t let me drink alone, Redfield, will you?”

With a roll of her eyes, Claire offered him her glass and let him pour the rest of wine into it, hoping it wasn’t the sip that would knock her out for good. They clinked their glasses together.

“Merry Un-Christmas!” Leon said and poured down the fluid while Claire went for the more careful sipping and nipping. 

The soft glow of the candlelight began to flicker as if someone had opened a window, causing the shadows on their faces to dance softly. It was all that was left of Christmas that year, but it seemed enough to build a homey atmosphere for two people who had seen hell on several occasions, and they both accepted it as a suitable substitute for a Christmas dinner that night. 

“Merry Un-Christmas” Claire eventually said as she put the empty glass away. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She was rewarded with a soft smirk from her friend.

“I’m glad, too. It’s a pity I can’t see your brother’s awkward performance of  _ Last Christmas _ this year, though.”

Claire chuckled.

“Oh, god! I think he gets worse every year!”

Leon coughed shyly, trying not to admit the embarrassing truth.

“To be honest… yeah.” He roared. “But it’s very funny. I don’t know why you think I’m not enjoying the Christmas dinner with you.”

Being busy catching her breath again, it took Claire a while to react to his latest words.

“What?” she asked with a grimace. “I didn’t say that.”

The sheepish grin on her friend’s face made him look like a boy who had been caught telling a lie, and the way he rolled his shoulders just made it more evident that he was, indeed, keeping something from her.

“Yes, of course you did. You say it every year!”

“No, I don’t.” She shook her head, the dizziness in her head fading away as she came to realize when she had used those words. “I just said it in my email!”

Leon’s jaw dropped a little as he’d obviously run out of words.

“I…”

“You  _ did  _ read my email!”

After another futile headshake, Leon closed his eyes and shrugged.

“I couldn’t leave you alone on Christmas Eve, could I?”

She felt tears burn in her eyes as she stared at him incredulously. So, he had come to keep her company because he had known she would be on her own.

“You thought I still had a boyfriend. You could’ve believed I was with him.”

Leon huffed out a laugh.

“It was worth a try,” he said. “Also, the chances that he’d be in Edonia too were pretty good. You only know people who are involved in bioterrorism, Claire.”

He was right, sadly, but she couldn’t care less. The point was that Leon had come to spend Christmas Eve with her and that was all that mattered.

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

“You’re welcome,” he replied and looked around. “Although I hadn’t expected you to just… delete Christmas. Really, Claire. For how long have you known that Chris would be abroad? Two days? You can’t tell me you hadn’t gotten everything ready for this night yet. What did you do to the ornaments, the cookies and the tree?”

Claire felt a smirk crawl up her face as she listened to Leon’s complaints about her exaggerated decision to just get rid of Christmas and she felt a little sorry. Taking his hand, she forced herself onto her feet and pulled him after her.

“Come with me.”

She staggered through the room towards the huge wooden shelf, where a tiny porcelain tray guarded a bunch of coins she had brought home from different countries. Slim fingers diving into the clinking content, she soon dug out a key and, after giving Leon a soft smile she led him to her bedroom, a part of her wishing that there was another reason in her doing other than to show him that she hadn’t  _ deleted  _ Christmas.

She had just kept it hidden from everyone’s eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Tiny dots of glitter sprinkled the darkness of the room, reflecting the dim moonlight that remained after making its way through clouds, pollution and, eventually, the curtains of Claire's bedroom, and Leon intuited what it was that lay there in the shadows. He stayed close to the door as his friend walked blindly across the room, guided by the familiarity of the layout. Something clicked and the air turned into bright lights of pink, blue and yellow, leaving Leon surprisingly speechless—at least, for a second or two.

"This must be how Jack Skellington felt when he entered Christmas Town," he muttered as his look traveled over the hundreds—yes, hundreds—of lights and ornaments Claire usually lightened up the entire apartment with and that were now in her bedroom, carefully placed onto and around mirrors, curtain rods and the headboard of the bed. The Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, blessed with the cutest handmade ornaments someone could have crafted, and waiting for someone to place presents underneath it.

Claire watched him with certain embarrassment and began walking back to the door to contemplate her work.

"This is what I did to Christmas," she confessed with a shrug.

Leon turned to face her and smiled widely.

"You kept it for yourself alone?"

His statement made the redhead blush in feigned offense.

"No!" She turned her head so fast it made her dizzy and Leon caught her arm to keep her on her feet.

"Thanks," she said softly when the surroundings stopped blurring and turning. "No, I didn't. I locked the door and I wasn't going to enter the room until Chris returned."

Leon, whose hand had caringly travelled up her arm to her shoulder to get better hold of her, cleared his throat.

"Where have you been sleeping?"

Tipsy with wine and the smell of Leon's aftershave, Claire couldn't manage to reply with more than a smirk in response.

"Couch," she eventually whispered and laughed at her own words.

Leon laughed along before he began to shake his head, smirking softly at his friend.

"Don't you think your brother would want you to sleep in your bed?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

Claire shrugged her shoulders, trying to force her left eye into a wink.

"Maybe," she said. "But it makes me feel less guilty for not being in Edonia."

And Leon stopped grinning.

"Oh…" he mumbled, his look quietly dropping to the floor and Claire suddenly felt sorry for her words, as it seemed that Leon was feeling some sort of guilt, too.

"It's a pity," he said eventually, turning to the Christmas lights and smiling softly. "Because your Christmas parties remind me of my childhood, when I used to spend Christmas with my family."

His words caused her to suck in some air. Leon speaking about his childhood or anything from before Raccoon City was something so rare that she always felt like tossed into a book of fairytales when he gave away the tiniest of details about his past self. Claire believed to spot an unfamiliar spark of joy and nostalgia on his face—something she hadn't even thought him capable of. And maybe it was because Leon Kennedy, the human, was already old and wrinkled underneath the shell of the agent.

If only...

"Do you still hate me?" she heard herself ask, not exactly knowing why. The blond turned back to her with widely-open eyes.

"Hate you?" he asked with a shake of his head. "Why are you asking this?"

She took a deep breath and dropped against the wall behind her.

"If I hadn't left, maybe things would have gone differently and you wouldn't have had to sacrifice your freedom." Her blue irises jumped up and down in a nervous, involuntary movement, as she asked one of the deepest-burning questions ever. "Do you hate me for not staying with you and Sherry after Raccoon?"

A soft smirk spread on Leon's lips as he tenderly blinked away the initial bafflement.

"I tried," he confessed and broke her heart, the pain so evident on her face that he quickly added,"but I couldn't. Sherry's faith in you was so contagious that I, too, started believing that you would come back."

He swallowed, giving them both a moment of silence.

"No, Claire, I don't hate you. Chris was everything you had left and I knew that you needed to check on him. Nothing would have changed if you'd stayed, Claire. Had they caught you, they would have killed you." A deep sigh left his lips. "But I could have come with you."

The blur in her mind seemed to vanish instantly, replaced by the bright shine of the Christmas lights that drew a beautiful glow onto Leon's face. Her free hand slowly wandered to his lower arm, absentmindedly trailing across the thin hair on the skin that had been left uncovered by the rolled-up sleeve of his blue shirt.

"Coming with me? To France?"

With a cheeky grin and a huff, he nodded.

"Yeah, why not?"

Her lips threatened with curving a sly grin as she thought about what could have been if Leon had come with her on her trip to Europe in 1998. Maybe they would have gotten off Rockfort much earlier. Perhaps they wouldn't have been caught in the Umbrella headquarters in Paris in the first place. Maybe they could have found Chris even before infiltrating the facilities.

Maybe they would have fallen in love.

A gasp rushed off her lips and crashed into Leon's slight snicker before he turned his head back to the room stuffed with ornaments. He sighed.

"How about we have a little Christmas?" he asked softly. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

* * *

Once the door had been closed, Claire had turned on the rest of lights and the playlist of her favorite Christmas carols and songs. They had shared some of her delicious cookies and Claire had let Leon peek into the stocking with his name on it.

"Wow, that's a very nice bottle of Scotch," he exclaimed loudly as he read the label. "Did you get this on your last trip?"

Claire nodded eagerly and made herself dizzy, caught by Leon as she nearly fell over when the surroundings began to turn.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Leon laughed as he slung his arms around her and held her against him, and Claire felt completely sober in a matter of a second.

She could feel his heart beat against her own.

"I was going to suggest we have a shot of this together," he said and put the bottle onto the shelf next to them. "But I assume that you've had enough tonight."

Claire, still fascinated by the touch of his chest against her body, huffed softly as she began to palpate the hard muscle under his shirt. Leon had to be aware of his effects on her, as he started chuckling in the most delightful way until Claire stopped groping him indecently and cleared her throat.

"I'm not _that_ drunk," she whispered against his chest and smirked slyly in an attempt to play down the embarrassment of the situation. Her friend laughed in reply.

"Don't lie," he said. "The droplet running down that empty wine bottle on your kitchen counter was still fresh when I arrived."

He'd caught her, it seemed, but Claire shrugged the topic off the best she could.

"I opened it two days ago," she claimed, lying a little. "I just had the last glass today."

They stared at each other in silence, Leon's arms still wrapped around the redhead and Claire's hands still pressed against his chest. _All I want for Christmas is you_ was fading out, leaving the room to Queen's _Thank God it's Christmas_ , and just as the iconic voice of Freddie Mercury started to sing, the pair began to swing softly to the heartwarming tunes. Eyes glued together in the glimmer of the Christmas lights, they shifted their weight from one foot to the other, turning slowly to the music, leaving all words to Freddie.

"This is the best Un-Christmas I've ever had," Leon whispered when the song was close to ending. "Thank you, Claire."

Claire inhaled deeply, her hands sliding up to his shoulders until their embrace was so tight that she could nuzzle his neck and feel the blond's breath on her hair and ear. One lazy step after another, he softly cradled her into a state of serenity, and Claire knew that, to her, this was the best Un-Christmas ever, too—meaning, literally, that it was the best _night_ ever.

Just as the thought took over, Claire felt Leon rub his cheek against her hair and the longing for his touch made her turn her face towards him. Closer, warmer, more intense—they moved so slowly that they barely noticed how little distance was left between their lips when Frank Sinatra started to sing _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_. A soft gasp ran off Claire's lips when Leon's grip around her shoulders tightened, and she fought with herself to ignore the tension she believed to sense between them. She was tipsy, after all, and probably misreading and misunderstanding every sign she could have been sent.

The more surprised she was when Leon gently brought his lips to hers with a resolute press, stealing her will to breathe and think, surrendering to her battering heart and the wonderful touch of his fingers on her. Her eyes fell shut instantly, causing everything around her to turn again. Caught in a nauseating haze as she was, she was glad Leon held her so tightly, so she didn't have to fear she'd collapse. The blond opened his mouth, catching her lower lip between his and giving it a couple of strokes of his tongue. Claire's lips parted, longing for the taste of him, and she returned his gentle caress with a hungry move.

Leon's hand ran down her back until it found a place to rest, close to her hip bone, and started toying with the hem of her shirt. Claire moaned softly as he pushed his hand underneath the fabric and her fingers searched for his collar to undo the upper buttons. They chuckled, they turned, and they started staggering towards the bed, dropping onto the mattress without letting go of each other.

When Claire's back met the covers, Leon broke their wild kiss and pushed her shirt up, leaving the redhead in nothing but her pants and her tiny, black bra. His tongue traced a line from her neck to her collarbone as Claire pushed his shirt off his shoulders, moaning loudly as he rolled her left nipple between his teeth through the fabric of the undergarment. After he'd tossed his own shirt away, he pushed his hands under the soft frame of his friend and undid the clasp of the bra on her back, passionately pulling the piece off her body. Claire squealed, scratching over Leon's perfect shoulder blades as he kissed the soft flesh of her exposed breasts, leaving them wet with his saliva.

Claire believed she was dreaming as she dared open her eyes and found Leon flicking his tongue over her nipple. How often had she wondered how he would feel that close to her—skin on skin? It wasn't like she had imagined it, though. It was so impossibly better that she started to think she was really drunk-dreaming.

"Oh, Leon," she moaned and moved her leg in a way her right knee met the bulge in his pants.

_Geezus!_

Leon, busy worshipping her breasts, chuckled and blew a soft breath against her skin.

"Claire."

And everything was over.

Claire shifted under him, arching her back in pleasure and letting out another cry, waiting for a descend of his hands and mouth towards her navel, but it never came. When she realized Leon had stopped sucking on her nipples and groping her violently, she opened her eyes and lifted her head.

"What's wrong?" she whispered as she met the dark look on her friend's face.

Leon shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, blowing out a desperate breath before he looked back at her with a look full of sorrow.

"I… I'm sorry, Claire. I can't," he mumbled with a low voice, licking his lips when she sat upright and gave him a look that demanded a response. "I don't want to sleep with you tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, wasn't this supposed to be fluffy? O_O
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter is such a huge mess. I don't have much time lately and I've been trying to get this done in a hurry. Please forgive my obsession.
> 
> Merry Un-Christmas and see you next week!


	4. Chapter 4

All the Christmas lights, the smell of cookies and spiced wine, the music and the soft jingling of the ornaments that filled the room weren't enough to push away the gelid feeling of Winter anymore. Claire froze on the spot when she heard the hardest words Leon had ever given her. More piercing than those he had sent her off after Chris with; colder than the way he had treated her after the Harvardville incident.

_I don't want to sleep with you tonight._

The words hung heavily in the air, sinking slowly onto their both figures as they stared at each other in the dim glow of the lights.

"What?" She hissed and sat upright as Leon crawled off of her body and kneeled between her legs.

"Claire," he muttered, but the redhead had already jumped out of the bed and grabbed her recently discarded shirt from the floor, pulling it hastily over her head just to hide her nudity as fast as possible.

"Please, wait."

"What for?" she asked, voice trembling with nervous laugh as she crossed her shaking arms over her chest. "Leon, I don't need explanations. Explanations will make it worse. You changed your mind. It's just that. You changed your mind and you don't want to fuck me like you fuck all those other women they say you…"

She felt the world begin to turn around her. One hand on her forehead, she dropped back onto the mattress, not before Leon caught her arm and helped her land smoothly. A soft mewl left her lips when his hand softly climbed up her arm and rubbed her shoulder. Why was he still there with her? Why had he come in the first place? Why did he have to make everything so hard with his warm touch and kind voice; with that captivating smell of wood and leather and—she opened her eyes and met those deep blue irises that had always taken her breath away—those fucking great looks? His lips drew a soft smile as he removed some strands of red hair from her face.

"Exactly. It's you, Claire," he whispered into her face and made her pout in disappointment. "I can't do this to _you_. You deserve better than to be-" he smirked and cleared his throat before saying, "fucked while you're drunk and vulnerable."

She stared back at him as hard as her heavy-lidded eyes would allow. Did he believe she was vulnerable only because it was Christmas and her whole family was fighting monsters in a foreign civil war while she was alone? That was ridiculous. _Drunk_ was probably the right word to describe her current state, but even so, she had never been so sure of anything.

"I want it," she breathed warmly as her hand rose to touch his jaw.

Leon took a deep breath. His voice was hoarse and low as he replied, "I want it, too," and it made her heart jump a bit. "I always wanted it, but not like this."

_Not like this._

_Always wanted it._

Claire gasped as she considered the different meanings Leon's words could really have and realized how much she wished he could be referring to a feeling far beyond their close friendship. With a sigh, she let him push her back onto the mattress and lie down next to her, softly slinging his arm around her waist.

"Let's talk tomorrow, okay?" He mumbled softly against her skin as he nuzzled her shoulder.

Claire, whose surroundings were still blurring whenever she closed her eyes, turned her head to face him, drunk in the warm colors of the Christmas lights and the sound of music. Look jumping from his strong jaw to his lips, his eyes and back to his mouth, she examined his features closely as her hand searched for his and their fingers entwined.

"Merry Christmas, Leon," she whispered into his face and quickly planted a soft peck onto his mouth.

"Merry Christmas, Claire."

* * *

Something rattled in the distance and pulled her out of the dreamless slumber. The sound was familiarly disturbing and Claire tried to slide her hands under her pillow to press he cushion onto her ears to protect herself from the deafening noise. She found, though, that something was pushing the pillow down. Turning her head a bit, she encountered Leon's figure sleeping peacefully next to her. The blond was still holding her against him and she felt a chuckle escape as she saw that his right hand rested on her breast, holding it protectively like those older ladies on the subway usually clung to their handbags.

Claire bravely ignored the noise and stared at Leon's face instead. When her fingertips brushed the stubble on his jaw, the blond began to grunt a bit and her heart hammered loudly in expectation and she was somehow grateful they hadn't had sex the night before. What would happen now? Was he aware whom he had fallen asleep next to? Her shaky breath collided with his as he opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"Hey," he whispered softly and chuckled as he realized that he'd been groping her in his sleep and he pulled his hand away.

Claire just hummed softly in response, wishing the moment would never end.

"Your phone is ringing."

But it had to end. It had to end very soon. Sucking in a sharp breath, Claire turned around and rolled out of the bed, landing roughly on the hard ground.

"Ouch!" she complained, unsure whether it was recent hit or the throbbing pain of the hangover that was making her so sick. Leon leaned over and grabbed her arm, helping her up.

"Careful!" he said caringly as he pulled her back onto the bed.

Claire rubbed her forehead, her face marred with pain.

"Thanks," she said and kept her eyes closed until the ache faded a bit.

Leon was softly stroking over her shoulder, waiting for the redhead to react again. The Christmas music was still playing, despite going under in the natural sound of an awaking city in the daylight, and it reminded her of the special date it was.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered when she opened her eyes again and looked at Leon, who flicked a playful thumb over her chin before he leaned in to kiss her.

"Good morning."

The phone had stopped ringing, she realized, and she couldn't care less anyway. It was most probably Chris, the man whose absence she'd been trying to overcome with the help of wine the night before, but which had made her wake up next to Leon, and she decided that there was something else that needed and deserved her attention now. There were still unanswered questions standing between them.

"Do you still want it?" Claire asked softly as she gathered all her courage and put a hand onto the blond's chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath his skin and stretching her fingers over it to _feel_ him. He didn't shy away as his eyes followed the fingers that traced a line down his stomach and inspected his abs. "Because I do."

He laughed.

"It's not about wanting it or not, Claire," he said and turned his glance to her sleepy face. "It's about what will happen later. I don't know if we're ready for the consequences."

She blinked absently at the wonderful landscape of man that lay half-naked next to her in her bed, and who was telling her that he was afraid of what might happen after they slept together. High on his scent, and maybe still a little drunk, she decided it was time to be brave and speak clearly.

"Do you fear I'm going to fall in love with you?" she asked and looked at his face, a little afraid of his response as it was, technically, too late for those worries.

Because she already loved him. All those years trying to fight down the want in her had just the opposite effect. Maybe she was finally brave enough to admit it. She wasn't brave enough to face the truth, though. When Leon failed to answer, she huffed out a laugh and pulled her hand away, as his silence was enough to confirm her concerns. When the phone began to ring again, she slowly freed herself from his grip and rolled out of the bed, landing on her feet this time and walking out of the bedroom in search for the noisy device.

It was Jill.

Maybe Chris was still busy and had asked his partner —or _girlfriend_ —to give his sister a call for Christmas. Claire was thankful for it, as she wasn't sure if she could hide the sadness in her voice and though Jill would certainly know that something was wrong, the blonde wouldn't insist and she'd drop the subject as soon as Claire would swear that she was fine. Unlike Chris, who'd fly back home immediately and wouldn't rest until he hadn't broken every single one of Leon's ribs, because that's what the Redfield siblings did for each other. They broke bones and rules.

"Jill," she said as she pressed the device to her ear. "Merry Christmas!"

The line rattled.

"Claire." The blonde's voice sounded far from cheerful. "Listen…"

* * *

Fuck Christmas and Edonia and the damn holidays. Fuck the tree and the cookies and the presents. Who cared about those superficialities when Chris had been involved in an attack? Chris losing his men. Chris with his head smashed. Chris in a coma. Chris close to death. Nothing else mattered anymore.

She promised Jill to take the first flight to Edonia even though she couldn't do anything about the situation, but she couldn't just stay home when her brother was as good as dead somewhere on the other side of the planet. When she stormed into her bedroom, mind already cleared by the shock and her face covered in tears, Leon jumped up.

"What happened?" he asked in concern.

Claire shook her head.

"Chris, he needs me," she howled and drifted aimlessly through the room in search of suitcase, passport and clothes until the blond grabbed her shoulders and made her face him.

"Claire', talk to me. What's wrong?"

She looked at him and swallowed.

"It was Jill. She says Chris' unit was attacked in Edonia. He hit his head and he's in a coma now. He…" She sobbed. The strength was vanishing so quickly from her limbs that she gladly let her friend hold her tightly in his embrace.

"Okay," he said and she felt him nod next to her hair. "Let's go."

After another sob, she pulled back and looked at him.

"Would you drive me to the airport? I don't think I can make it there on my own."

He smiled comfortingly as she began to shake in his arms.

"Not just that," he said with his eyes shining. "I'm coming with you."

Her heart jumped as she heard his words and she felt her body stiffen in his grip.

"What? Why would you do that? Stay, Leon, it's Christmas."

He laughed.

"Even if I had any better plan for the holidays, I would rather come with you," he said and smirked. "I told you that I always regretted not following you to France. I can't turn back time, but I can come with you now."

She gasped for air as she felt Leon's words were stealing her breath.

"Can you repeat that?"

He nodded and smiled at her.

"Let's see it like a new start, so maybe, next year, you won't be so surprised to find me at your door for Christmas Eve."

A sigh was all she could give him, before another sob made its way out.

"You don't have to do this to make me feel better."

And he laughed. He laughed warmly as his fingers crawled up her neck and cupped her jaw to pull her into a soft kiss and he stole her breath with it.

"You'll forgive, love, but I'm going to be selfish now. I'm doing this for me," he whispered after breaking the kiss and leaving Claire longing for more. "I'm not afraid you could fall in love with me, Claire. I even _wish_ you would."

His hand toyed with her hair as he scanned how much bafflement lay in her expression.

"I'm just afraid that I'm going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

Claire made a sound of surprise when she heard Leon Kennedy speak of… what? Feelings?

"What do you suggest?"

His looks slowly drove through the room.

"I don't know, Claire. All this. Christmas, family, reunions and dinners. That's home." He sighed. "It's something I have been looking for lately, unaware that it had been missing in my life since I walked into Raccoon. I'm not sure if I'll be good at it, but if you agree, I would like to see, without rushing things, if we could work."

She had been listening attentively to his words, both suspicious and excited about every sound he was making. It was what she had always longed for, as _he_ was a part of home to her, too. Seeing him so tenderly hesitant and shy warmed her heart and made her feel happy and fresh. If they could work? Yes, she was dying to find it out, too.

"Okay."

Leon instructed Hunnigan to get them two tickets to Edonia while Claire packed a small suitcase with the most needed stuff. As she opened the door and walked out of her apartment into an unknown future, her heart filled with a stabbing concern for her older brother, she felt like the dirty, terrified nineteen-year-old girl again that had survived an apocalypse. This time, though, everything was different. She was still terrified, but this time, she was going on the journey hand in hand with the boy in the uniform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. I'm sorry this came out so lame and boring, but I have been so busy lately that I didn't have time to come up with a perfect ending for them and I needed to deliver this before Christmas. I'm sorry, but you I will have to leave the choice of what happens next to you, my readers :D
> 
> If you dig the drama as much as I do, I suggest (Self-promo alert!!) [Too much, never enough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14739071/chapters/34073516). I recently re-read it and I have to admit it's not really well-written, but the story isn't entirely bad, I think hahahaha It has some Un-Christmas vibes, a lot of pain and a character death I'm not really sorry for hahaha (Sorry, not sorry).
> 
> Thanks again and Merry Christmas :D


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